Reflections
by yellow 14
Summary: A character reflects on the death of Cedric Diggory after his death. Enjoy


Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, it wouldn't be Harry Potter now, would it?

AN: This is the second round piece that I'm doing for Vicky199416's contest, 'The happiest moment' This timer it involves doing something about the characters death or at the age of twenty-five.

Death.

It's not something most people my age tend to give a lot of thought as a rule. It's not that we are unaware of it exactly, but it's always something that happens to someone else, somewhere else. We like to think that we're indestructible. Or pretty damn close. Death is something that always happens to someone else, somewhere else.

At seventeen, most people have the rest of their lives ahead of them. They plan for their own little future in the wizarding world. For some, it's an ambitious path, filled with potholes and falls. For the right people, with the right contacts, the right talents and the right amount of luck, they'll go far. For those who don't, well they might well end up settling for what they have, or more likely seek other routes. A few might seek the Dark Arts, or travel overseas.

There are those who don't know what they want to do. For them, the world is so full of possibilities, so full of wonderful chances. They might travel, seek out their desires and discover what they want to do with their lives.

Some are scared and simply end up following the footsteps of their fathers and grandfathers because that's all they know. Their lives become dull and they do as well, the busy little beavers that make the world turn for the rest of us. Their lives are so mapped out that people smile and nod and say what a good, reliable person that person is. But they are never remembered in the annals of history, barely leaving a mark. Just one of the thousands that history buries under the march of time.

But what none of them expect is to die. Not really. Especially not by the hand of another human being, although I suspect that Voldemort and Peter don't really qualify for that. During wartime, it might cross their mind, but not during times of peace. As a result, when it does happen, it's often seen as cruel and senseless, a tragic waste.

On the flip side of the coin, everyone dies, sooner or later. As someone once told me, nobody ever got out of life alive. Ultimately, death happens to us all. Oh there are those who try to avoid it, forever seeking ways to avoid the inevitable cold touch of death. Voldemort isn't the first magic user who seeks immortality.

There are horcruxes of course, the ones that so fascinate the users of the dark arts. But the dark arts drive and consume. Those who use them always want more, always believe that they can do a better job of running the world and from under the bodies of the people they tread over, someone fights back. And someone always stops them.

But immortality isn't always chased by the dark arts. There are those who seek immortality through medicine, science and magic alike. Cryogenic freezing, better healthcare, healthier lifestyles, spells to rejuvenate flesh and spells to heal away sickness and disease. But they too die eventually.

So perhaps dying isn't such a bad thing? Without it, life as we know it would implode. Death is a vital function for life, if you think about it. When people eat, their food is made up of something that was once alive in one way or another. Death allows the young to grow and fill the shoes of others.

But dying at the age of seventeen, when others live for over a century? I guess that's why it feels so harsh, so pointless, and so ridiculously stupid. It was only a cup and a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Was the glory of winning the tri-wizard tournament REALLY that important? I don't think it was worth dying for.

But as I hold the soul of Cedric Diggory in my hands, I look at his killer with undisguised hatred. It matters not that he can't see me, or that I can do nothing to him. While Voldemort is still living, he is beyond my power. But one day, he will die. And then he will be at the mercy of Death and me, his apprentice. Until that happy day, I must turn away and take Cedric's soul on to the next place. What is the next place beyond? Ah, well that is another story entirely, one I am not allowed to tell.

AN: An old friend recently died and so I dedicate this piece to him.


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